Fight for Me

Chapter 2

John and Lydia spent hours in the small cafe, John doing most of the talking. Lydia couldn't help but find herself rather interested in the stories he told of his adventures with the great Sherlock Holmes. He even gave her the link to his blog so that she could stay up to date with their cases wherever she was in the world.

"So what about you? How'd you end up here?" John finally shifted the conversation to her, much to her disappointment. Her gaze dropped to her empty coffee cup on the table as she prepared herself to answer.

Wringing her hands nervously, she let her eyes flicker up to John, "well, after my father died, my mum sort of lost herself to drugs completely, which I reckon shouldn't have actually come as a surprise. So I started to look for ways to get out of the house and ended up at a community theatre. I spent every second I could there, even if I wasn't needed for rehearsal, it became my refuge. I didn't mean for it to go any further than that, I just assumed that I would turn out onto the streets like everyone else in my position."

She paused, noticing how John's face softened, his eyes revealing his pity. It angered her, she didn't want him to look down on her, not after everything she had endured. And she had survived it all, she didn't need his pity.

Still, she thought it best if she continued her tale, "but I got lucky. There was this charity organisation that found me, one of my directors recommended me to them. They helped me get through acting school and take voice lessons and introduced me to the friends that I now tour with."

She explained how none of them had ever held a professional role, although a few of them were able to participate in concert productions. But she didn't tell him that the reason behind that was because they were all owned by the same person and, even if they auditioned for a role, he would make sure that they did not get cast if it would make them stationary for an extended period of time. That led to the five of them living on almost nothing and they performed concerts as a way to stay afloat.

It was getting late in the evening when John received a text from Sherlock, expecting him back at the flat. He shoved mis mobile into his pocket and turned to Lydia, "I'm so sorry, he does this a lot. But this actually sounds pretty important. It was really nice catching up with you, Lydia."

She smiled, "you too, John. And if you don't happen to have anything going on this weekend, we have an evening performance tomorrow and a matinee Sunday, it would be great to see you there."

"I'll see if I can make it, if Sherlock has a new case I may be tied up for a while."

"No worries, John, it was nice just getting to see you," she spoke as she wrapped her arms around him, reaching into his coat pocket and removing his wallet. Carefully tucking it into the waistband of her trousers, she pulled away from him and watched as he left the cafe.

She sat back down as she thought things over. She could place the necklace in John's wallet, that way she could ensure that she got the necklace into the flat. But would that be too obvious? Should she have simply slipped the necklace into his pocket while they embraced? That seemed the better choice now that she thought about it. But this wasn't her forte, she was trained to act, not whatever this reverse stealing was classified as.

She calculated that she had spent long enough alone in the cafe mulling over her options. John was probably close to being back to Baker Street by now. So she rose from her seat and pocketed the wallet, retracing the path that John had led her on earlier that day.

When she arrived, she didn't bother knocking, she didn't want to take the chance that she would not be allowed to actually enter the flat. She bounded up the stairs, remembering the layout of the building from what she had been shown before being asked to approach John.

Lydia took a moment to catch her breath then knocked on the door, biting her lip nervously. Would she be able to fool Sherlock Holmes, or would he see right through her? How was she supposed to slip the necklace out of her pocket under his watchful gaze?

"Go away, Mrs. Hudson!" A voice barked out from behind the door.

"Erm, it's not Mrs. Hudson," Lydia replied timidly, her hands starting to tremble slightly at the sound of Sherlock's voice.

It was deeper, richer than she had expected. But the rudeness, that seemed spot on with what she had heard about the detective.

The door swung open a second later, revealing a very confused John Watson. "Lydia? What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you, it's just, er, well this isn't exactly the best time."

Lydia's eyes scanned the flat, finding it much more disheveled than she had been expecting. Sherlock was apparently more of a chaotic genius than organised. After passing over the mess of open books and strewn papers, her eyes landed on the detective himself. Her breath hitched in her throat at the sight. John never told her he was so beautiful. Unruly curls sat atop his head in a gorgeous mess and his defined jaw was clenched slightly, clearly her presence here annoyed him. But nothing, not even his sharp cheekbones, could compare to the allure of his eyes. Despite holding such contempt, they were the most beautiful shade of blue she had ever seen.

Tearing her gaze from Sherlock, she noticed the last figure in the room: a man dressed in a sharp pinstriped suit with his hand resting on an umbrella. A client, perhaps? No, he seemed far too comfortable in the space and stood in the middle of the room as opposed to sitting on the chair Lydia suspected was meant for clients. So who was he? He was clearly wealthy and well-kept. Not to mention his piercing blue gaze was melting Lydia's resolve to plant the necklace as she knew he would catch her.

"Sorry, I-I didn't realise there was someone here," Lydia spoke as she shifted her gaze back to John. "You just left your wallet at the cafe and I wanted to return it."

John's confusion deepened as he instinctively patted down his pocket where he kept his wallet, finding that it was indeed not there. Lydia held it out for him and he accepted with a nod.

"Thanks, Lydia, I'll see if I can make it Sunday," John spoke, clearly trying to rush her exit.

Panic began to swirl within her as her eyes scanned the flat once more, desperate for a place to hide the necklace. But under the gaze of all three men, there was no option but for her to surrender, even if it meant the death of one of her best friends.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sorry again for intruding," she replied with a forced smile. Her gaze went to the detective, who hadn't moved a muscle. "You must be Mr. Holmes, I apologise for barging in."

He gave no acknowledgement to her words so she gave John a final nod before retreating back out into the hallway awkwardly. Quickly, she descended the stairs and slipped out the front door, resting against it as she tried to control her breathing.

After everything that has just happened, only one thought was left in her mind. She had failed.

-

(A/N): I start new courses on Wednesday (because my school is doing a very bizarre schedule due to Covid) and I still don't know which days I'll actually have class? I know at least one of the courses definitely won't be meeting five days a week but which days we're actually meeting is just a giant question mark at this moment.

And it took me until chapter two to share random details of my life that has absolutely no relation to the story! Anywho, I do hope you enjoyed this chapter now I'm going to go struggle to write some Sherlock with emotions but like not with emotions? We love complicated characters ❤️